Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates
Read Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates Online
Authors: Elizabeth Gannon
Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates
Elizabeth Gannon
Text Copyright © Elizabeth Gannon 2016
All rights reserved
Cover Image Copyright © Elizabeth
Gannon 2016
All rights reserved
Published by Star Turtle Publishing
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Books by Elizabeth Gannon
The Consortium of Chaos series
Yesterday’s Heroes
The Son of Sun and Sand
The Guy Your Friends Warned You About
Electrical Hazard
The Only Fish in the Sea
Coming Soon:
Not
Currently Evil
The Mad Scientist’s Guide to Dating
Other books
The Snow Queen
Travels with a Fairytale Monster
Everyone Hates Fairytale Pirates
Coming… Eventually
: The
Man Who Beat-Up Prince Charming
If you enjoy Elizabeth’s books, you
may also enjoy books by her sister, Cassandra Gannon.
The Elemental Phases Series
Warrior from the Shadowland
Guardian of the Earth House
Exile in the Water Kingdom
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom
Queen of the Magnetland
Magic of the Wood House
Coming Soon
: Destiny of
the Time House
A Kinda Fairytale Series
Wicked Ugly Bad
Beast in Shining Armor
Coming Soon
: Happily
Ever Witch
Other Books
Love in the Time of Zombies
Not Another Vampire Book
Vampire Charming
Cowboy from the Future
Once Upon a Caveman
Coming soon:
Ghost Walk
Dedicated to the
nonconformists.
Dedicated to the
eccentrics.
Dedicated to the
people who wear weird shoes, watch weird things, and listen to music everyone
else thinks is either lame or crazy.
Dedicated to
everyone, everywhere who was perfectly happy not fitting in.
Life is a garden; it
would be so boring if every plant were the same.
May you all find
someplace where you’re accepted and appreciated as the odd, prickly,
beautifully unique little flower that you are.
But hopefully you
won’t have to resort to piracy to find it.
“Now and then we
had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be
pirates.”- Mark Twain, Old Times on the Mississippi (1875)
The 11
th
Year of The War of Gold and Silver
“Why are people always trying to
kill me?” Captain Uriah wondered aloud, not for the first time. “Nobody likes
me. I just don’t understand it.”
Beside him, his partner and quartermaster,
Ransom, leaned against the side of the building. “You don’t?” She sounded
surprised. “Really? Because I’d be happy to start listing reasons for you, if
you want.” She began counting them off on her fingers. “You’re demanding of
attention, manipulative and easily bored. You’re a thief. You double-cross
people a lot. You have anger issues. You’re a self-important pompous
braggart. You chew with your mouth open when you’re really hungry. Your
clothes are fifty years out of fashion. You…”
“I get the idea, thank you.” He
interrupted.
Ransom was always so
negative
.
You could say a lot of things about
his partner in literal crime, but being an encouraging and optimistic person
wasn’t one of them.
He made a face at her, an action
lost on the woman because of her blindness. As was usual however, she still
somehow knew what he was doing.
“Number 618 on the list,” his
companion provided, raising one more finger, “you’re the most
immature
man I’ve ever met.”
“You can’t say that for sure.” He
reminded her. “You could have met
hundreds
of men more immature than I
am, but you’d have no way of remembering them.”
Sadly, his partner had memory
problems. She always downplayed them, and sometimes outright denied them, but
they were there.
As far as he knew, she couldn’t
remember anything about her life before their meeting.
Uriah had no idea what her real
name even was.
So, she was “Ransom,” simply
because he had once hoped to sell her back to her family when they appeared.
But they never showed up to claim her, so she stayed with him.
Not that he cared much what her
real story was, since he was perfectly happy with their relationship. If he made
a serious effort to find out her history, there was a chance their partnership
might change. And Uriah
didn’t
want that to happen. He depended on her
for everything
and losing her from his life would be
unthinkable.
She was a vital piece to his life.
He needed her to survive.
Thankfully, she seemed just as
disinterested in her history as he was. Perhaps more so, in fact. True, early
on she had made a cursory effort into researching it, but it was halfhearted at
best.
He knew the woman.
If she cared about something, it
would get done.
She was clever, capable, and
driven.
But she had still never uncovered
what her story was.
In all honesty, Uriah suspected
that she was deliberately avoiding the issue out of fear of what she might find
out about herself.
Which was fine
with him.
He wasn’t a man who liked change
overly much. If things were good, he wanted them to
stay
good. He was more
than happy to continue calling her simply “Ransom” and keeping her on his
crew and in his life.
Her friendship was really the only
thing in the world he valued. He’d sacrifice anything or anyone if it meant
gaining her good opinion.
Her… forgiveness.
Just somehow wash away the shame
and guilt he felt every moment of the day, and prove to her that he could be
trusted. When it mattered. Instead of being some useless thing that let her
down.
“I’d remember
that
.” Ransom
defended calmly. “People like you have a tendency to be
memorable.
”
“Thank you, Dove.” He smiled,
genuinely touched. “So often I find that the world is filled with a parade of
sameness, all proudly marching in step to the monotonous pounding of
normalcy,
without any thought given to where it is they are going or what they…”
“
Hey!
” One of the men
yelled. “I said: give us the money or we’ll gut you right here!” He poked
Uriah with the tip of his sword to drive the point home.
Uriah frowned down at the man
reproachfully. He hated being interrupted when he was talking to his partner.
In all honestly, he’d forgotten about the entire ‘being held at knifepoint’
aspect of his afternoon. As was typical, when he was talking to Ransom, she
was the only thing on his mind.
“Oh, he sounds serious, ‘Rai.” The
bored tone in Ransom’s voice was delivered
perfectly,
her Adithian
accent making everyone else in the world sound like lowbred hooligans in
comparison.
For his part, that classification
was absolutely true. Uriah was literally from the
worst
place in the
known world: the Grizzwood. It was a land of bogs, bastards, blood, and
barbarians.
Uriah had chosen to rise above his
ignominious beginnings however, and had gotten out of that awful place as soon
as the opportunity presented itself. He had spotted his opening and entered
into the only honest profession available to a Grizzwoodian:
piracy.
Which was about as “honest” as a
Grizzwoodian could ever actually be. They weren’t universally recognized as the
world’s criminal class without reason, after all.
He readjusted his tall
copotain-style hat on his shaved head, so that it didn’t interfere with the braided
ponytail of dark hair which hung from the back of his head to his waist. There
were some elements of life in the Grizzwood which not even Uriah was willing to
leave behind, and he had maintained the hairstyle.
It was a signal of where he was
from and what he could do.
What he had done.
Very few people outside of his
homeland would recognize its meaning, but given the number of Grizzwoodian
criminals which seemed to move about in the world, it still served as a very
nice deterrent.
“I want my money, Cap’n!” The man
demanded again.
“Money?” Uriah took on an air of
complete bafflement and turned to his partner. “Ransom, do you know anything
about this alleged coinage?”
“I think he’s referring to the
money that you were supposed to pay him.” She reminded him calmly, sitting
down on a barrel. “Remember? With that treasure you stole from the Cormoranians?”
“Ahhhh.” Uriah nodded, as if
finally understanding. “
That
money.”
Last year, Uriah had taken part in
a bit of a revolution in the kingdom of Cormoran, and had helped himself to a
portion of their treasury. Which, really, was actually
less
than he
deserved for his steadfast service in that whole affair. Without his brave
leadership, the entire operation would have crumbled. The kingdom would have
been lost. Fire. Death. All of it. But thankfully, Uriah had been there to
save the day and avert disaster. His heroism truly was a beacon, guiding those
poor lost souls through the darkness.
It was only right that he should be
rewarded for his gallant efforts.
Granted, the amount and method of
his payment had been a unilateral decision on his part, but he hadn’t felt the
need to involve his clients in that aspect of things. Bothering them with the
insignificant details would have only confused them anyway. They weren’t
exactly the fastest ships that ever sailed, when you came right down to it.
Sadly, the whole world had been
fighting for the past decade or so, as The War of Gold and Silver raged. The
kingdom of Baseland—the titular “gold” in the war’s catchy moniker-- and The
Union of the Southern Isles— which was led by a queen whose nickname was
“Silver Tree,” thus helping some rather unimaginative person devise the second
half of the confrontation’s title -- were carving up the world with their
allies. Seven kingdoms making a mad rush for power and splitting the world
between them.
The capital of the Southern Isles,
Adithia, was where Ransom was apparently from, judging from her exotic appearance
and accent. But Uriah had never held that against her.
People couldn’t help where they’d
been born.
Uriah’s people were mindless
savages of the Grizzwood, Ransom’s people were sinister Adithian lunatics bent
on bloody conquest.
But that was the nature of the
world.
And life went on for them both.
“Yeah.
That
money.” The
man shot back, poking Uriah with the sword again. “You have it. You promised
it to me. I want it. You’re going to
give it to me
or I’m going to
stick you right here.”
Uriah looked down at the blade and
pursed his lips. “As a negotiating tactic, bloodshed rarely inspires much in
the way of trust between business partners. In fact, it betokens ill-intent.”
He heaved a longsuffering sigh. “And after
all
we’ve been through together.
Honestly, I expected better from you, Stiller.”
“Stillman.” Ransom corrected.
“
Nickname,
Dove.” He
quickly explained, hating it when he looked bad in front of her. “I’ve a
lways
called him ‘Stiller,’ you know
that.”
“True.” She nodded. “You never
get his name right.”
“That’s because we’re so close that
we don’t need
to use our formal names.” He turned to face her, ignoring
the men entirely now. “Friends use nicknames. It’s simply more evidence of
our deep bond, and why this betrayal is so
especially
cutting for me.”
She snorted in derision. “The
closest you’ve ever come to a nickname for Stillman is: ‘you fucking idiot.’”
She leaned back against the building again, still sitting on her barrel.
“Number 619 on the list of reasons why nobody likes you: you remember the words
to a few thousand shanties about crime and slutty women, but can only name
three members of your crew.” She paused. “Counting yourself.”
“That’s unfair, Ransom.” He
protested, pointing at her. “Most of the crew is new. How can I be expected
to…”
“I’ve been on your crew for four
years!” Stiller shouted in irritation. “Four fucking years!”
Uriah pursed his lips in thought,
trying to place the man.
He
did
look kind of
familiar…
“I’m sick of your shit, Cap’n!”
The man yelled again. “I’m through wasting my life waiting for you to do
something competent! I’m through watching you fart around the countryside,
doing
nothing
, while there are prizes out there on the seas to be
taken! I’m through making up excuses for why
every other pirate in the
world
is getting rich off this war, but I’m stuck in this rathole kingdom,
living like a fucking peasant!”
“Wow.” Ransom sat up straighter,
as if suddenly paying attention. “It’s like he’s saying everything I’m
thinking but am too bored to say.” She told no one in particular, a small
smile causing the spider-web of scars which ran across her otherwise flawless
and strikingly beautiful face, to twist upward.
Uriah snorted in amusement, always
loving his partner’s sense of humor, particularly when she smiled. She very
rarely did and he found the sight simply stunning.
True, he was about to be killed in
this grimy alleyway, but Ransom’s pretty little smile made this a
wonderful
day. Even if he were stabbed to death right now, it would have been worth it.
Because that woman’s smile was something which affected him on the deepest of
levels.
She
affected him on the
deepest of levels.
She always had.
He found her mere presence erotic
but also comforting. She made him feel safe and powerful and like if he could
make a creature as stunning and capable as she was smile at him, then he could
do
anything.
Including dealing with the five
heavily armed men he apparently owned a LOT of money to.
“We Red or Black here?” She asked
calmly.
“Red.” Uriah’s smile never faded
as he made his decision on how they’d handle this situation. “
Most
decidedly
Red, Quartermaster.”
“Aye, Captain.” She nodded, still
sounding bored. “I concur.”
Stiller ignored her. “So, you’re
going
to give me that money, because I’ve
earned it
after four long years of
putting up with your shit!”
Insanity and greed lit the man’s
eyes and Uriah was sure Stiller believed what he was saying. He fully intended
to kill Uriah right here.
There was no gratitude anymore.
No loyalty.
Uriah didn’t actually remember the
man, but he was
sure
he’d done a myriad of wonderful and benevolent
things for him over the years. Uriah was
constantly
doing good things
for the world. Granted, some of those same things got him jail time and/or
denunciation from civic leaders and the clergy, but the point remained the
same.
“Very well.” Uriah heaved a weary
sigh. “But let’s do this somewhere else, yes?” He gestured to Ransom. “I
don’t want the girl to see.”
“Your girl’s blind, cap’n.” One of
the other men-- who may or may not have been a member of Uriah’s crew, Uriah
wasn’t sure-- reminded him. “She ain’t seeing much of anything.”
“I think he must be their gang’s
‘smart one.’” Ransom told Uriah knowingly, as if impressed with the man’s
deductive reasoning.
He chuckled at her dry tone, but
refocused on the men. “All the same, she shouldn’t have to
hear
me
die.” Uriah shook his head. “I fear she might be traumatized.”
“Actually, it would probably be the
lone bright spot in an otherwise dull morning.” Ransom sounded as utterly
disinterested as she claimed to be. “We spent most of it in a tavern, looking
for a guy who isn’t even here.”
